Living Proof
by storyofeden
Summary: Dean knows that with out Cas, he just can't go on. And Cas would do anything for another chance.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. This is my first attempt at a Supernatural fic, so be kind please. It's Destiel, cause they're mah favessss. Um. Yeah. Bobby is [still] alive, other than that I guess you're all caught up?**

**Enjoy. =]**

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><p>"Why don't we head to Hawaii, huh? We always said we were going to. Why not now?" Sam was trying to cheer him up. It wasn't working.<p>

Dean shot him a look. "Demons don't exactly stop and go on vacation when we want to."

"Look," Sam huffed. He was good at that, huffing. "Ever since Cas died, or whatever, you've been acting like you've got a cactus up your ass. Which I get, alright? I've know you since you were 4. I know your favorite color and your least favorite food, and I know what you think most of the time."

Dean said nothing, just took a long swill of his beer.

Sam continued. "That being said, I know that you guys…got each other. He was like our brother. But…he wasn't family, Dean. He just…helped us out sometimes. And he left, I get that, I do, but dude, you've gotta cheer up. Cause you haven't stopped drinking for weeks and I'm not sure I can take much more of this crap…"

"Are you done with that Hallmark movie moment? Or is everyone else going to come in for the intervention too?"

Sam sighed, threw his beer bottle away, and loped up the stairs to sleep.

As much as Dean had hated the son of a bitch, especially at first, he'd always felt this pull between him and Cas. Almost like it was with Sammy when they were little. But, if his subconscious mind was any indication, this bond he and Cas shared wasn't the least bit brotherly. Still, that's the only way he could bring himself to describe it. Brotherly. Familial.

So he had pleaded to Cas that way, needing him to believe in the goddamn Philadelphia city motto so he wouldn't open purgatory. Dean had rarely flat out asked him for anything personal. In fact, he usually just pleaded with him to save some schmuck, or get him to magic his own ass out of there so he could save more schmucks. But he was calling in the only favor he liked to pretend he had: their bond. He asked once, for one chance.

He'd waited. And Dean hated waiting. More than he hated when Sammy forgot the pie. And Sammy forgot the pie a lot.

It rankled him that Cas and Crowley were now…butt buddies. Even Gabriel would be better than Crowley and that damned Angel had killed him 400 times. The one person besides Sam and Bobby he'd truly trusted, Dean had actually caught himself believing Cas was the light that would…save him, so to speak. Bullshit.

And then Cas had left him.

He'd opened the damned gates to purgatory, no pun intended, and then walked himself into a fucking lake.

Which just felt like a swift kick in the soft spots.

Realizing he had finished his beer a while ago, he quietly exited the house, as not to wake Bobby and Sam, and walked into the cold night air.

Dean kicked at the dirt. Whenever anyone asked, he told them he didn't have a home. That he was a rambling man. A desperado. But this place? Bobby's old junk yard? This was it for him. This would be his home one day.

Home…

He looked up to the stars. It wouldn't be home without his…without Cas. He didn't want to admit it. But he knew it.

Dean had never looked at a guy as any way other than just another dude. At least, not until Cas. And it had weirded him out for a long time. At least, until he saw Cas and Crowley together and a jealousy had sliced through him. That's when the pleading had happened.

"Cas?" he spoke to the night's bright stars. "I know that…that I'm not perfect. I'm not some…obey-er or…believer or…whatever. But neither are you, okay? Neither are you. I…I need answers here, Cas. I'm climbing walls here, and…and I need you to come back. To pull all that Angel-crap and come back to me. Okay? I'm beggin' you here…please. I…"

He paused. His throat tightened with the need to cry. Rarely did Dean Winchester cry. When his dad died, sure. When he got out of hell, sure. When Sammy went nutso, who wouldn't? But crying over another dude wasn't something he did. Hell, he wasn't even someone who cried over girls.

Of course, he didn't necessarily know who he was. Which was also something he wasn't really ready to admit yet.

"Look, Cas," he began again. "I'm living proof life sucks. That there are wars and monsters and evil shit, and you know, most days I'm actually not completely awful at hiding it. But…I'm not used to needing anyone, Cas. And I…I need you. I…" He choked his words back. "You're not dead. I know it. I can…feel it in my gut. And I know you don't believe in my instincts or whatever. But I…I don't know what I'm gonna do without you, okay? And I'm...not sure that I…we…can do all this without you…"

Giving up, Dean looked down at his feet, heaved a sigh, and went back inside for another beer.

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><p>Cas felt nauseous. Or rather, his vessel felt nauseated. He supposed that was the correct term. Although, this was not just a vessel anymore; it was simply him.<p>

He sat and stared down at Dean from above. Cas had always liked this view of his friend. In person, Dean was such a…a powerful being. He was someone you couldn't ignore. But from up here, he looked more vulnerable, more…obtainable.

Of course, the view from the top of a pile of cars was not the same as the view from Heaven, but it was a comparable substitute given the current situation.

As Dean spoke, Cas had to do everything in his power to not go down there, to not grip him tight and—

And do what? It wasn't as if he could actually do anything anymore. He was merely…Cas, the Angel who had fallen.

He climbed down to the ground and breathed deep.

This was the worst part of falling. Not being able to go back to his family.

Not the Angels, mind you, but the Winchesters.

When Anna fell, she had feigned not knowing she'd been an Angel. Which Castiel had believed. Now he knew better.

You remember everything. Perhaps it's a reward, so you don't have to start completely fresh. Perhaps it's a punishment, so you will forever regret falling. Whatever the reason, Cas remembered all of it. All of his orders. All of his…regrets.

Seeing Dean again, this time drunk and…depressed. Pleading. It did something to Cas. He felt…Well, he supposed that's just what it was. He was feeling. And truth be told, he didn't care for it too much. It was…disconcerting, painful.

A smart man would consider this all a second chance. He had always been considered loyal but Castiel believed himself to be intelligent, at least somewhat.

So here he was, standing in the middle of Bobby Singer's junk yard, trying to figure out what to do.

"I swear I'm sorry for what I did, Dean Winchester," Cas murmured to himself. "Just…one more chance. That's all I'll ever ask for…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope you like it! Enjoy.**

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><p>"O-kay big guy," Sam pretty much held his brother up as they exited the bar. He may be the tall one, but Dean was no shrimp.<p>

Sam deposited him on the stoop and smacked him a little harder than necessary when Dean started to sway to the side. "You gotta stay upright. And you gotta stay here. I'm gonna go get the car, and come back to get you."

"My baby…" Dean tried to stand, but only succeeded in sliding further to the ground.

"I'll get the impala. You…stay here."

Sam bounded off in the direction of the gravel parking lot. Dice's was not a bar they frequented, which meant that they didn't know anyone there, which was just as well, because very few had ever seen Dean this drunk before. Sam and Bobby and…Cas.

Dean drank more than he should have, his fuzzy brain knew that much. He was already nauseous, and his head already hurt. His decision to drink away a memory hadn't worked. Sure, he could have learned that from any number of country songs, but hands-on experience was always more his thing. Double that with the fact that he'd cried so much lately, plus the alcohol, his throat was on fire.

His eyes closed and he let out a heaving sigh. In truth, he wasn't as drunk as he was leading Sam to believe, but you reach a certain point where a Lifetime movie monologue and MTV intervention just weren't going to cut it. Hopefully, this was the point where Sam would just…give up. Dean had. Why should anyone else care?

Rubbing his eyes, he opened them and looked out into the darkness. He thought he saw a flash of beige between the cars, illuminated only by the moon.

His brain HAD to be playing tricks on him…right? Because—

Another flash of beige and another.

Dean, whose head was pounding anyway, let alone from the quick double take he'd just done, winded up in the dirt next to him, lying on his side.

He had to find out why there was a flash of beige. Was it Cas? Had he finally come back?

Finally, whatever it was stopped moving. It was a person. He was wearing a trench coat and he had these incredible blue eyes…

Realization dawned on him, but just as soon as it did, the figure was gone.

But wait. Dean had Cas's trench coat. Had he gotten another one?

Dean threw up.

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><p>This was not the way it was supposed to be, Castiel had decided long ago.<p>

He was supposed to just…disappear. He did not expect Dean to react this way. To miss him so fiercely. To….break.

Because as much as Cas didn't want to admit it, Dean was broken.

Slowly and quietly, he walked to the window of the kitchen and listened to Bobby and Sam talk. About Dean.

His heart sunk as he learned just how badly Dean was doing. He'd known about the drinking. And the screaming his name at night. But as a whole, he knew nothing of what happened inside the house. Bobby would come home to find Dean in the fetal position in the bathtub, the hot water from the shower head beating down on him, staring blankly at the wall. Sam as come home to find no Dean at all. But he always knew where he would be. So Sam went down to the lake, where Dean would be standing in the lake, water lapping at his knees, holding a worn, beige trench coat.

Then heard Sam say something to Bobby about not knowing how much longer Dean was going to make it.

Suddenly, Cas barged into the kitchen.

Sam and Bobby looked at him, dumbfounded.

"Hello Sam, Bobby."

The first thing Bobby did was reach for the salt. Sam went for the silver knife.

Cas simply raised his hands, "There's no need, boys. I'm human. I have to breath now, and eat, and sleep. Which is a nuisance, really. But. I'm me."

Still, Sam held the knife to Cas's neck. Of course, nothing happened.

Bobby threw salt at his face, promptly followed by Holy water. Still, nothing.

"Holy shit." Bobby rasped.

Sam hugged him, his giant gangly body almost caccooning Cas.

"Um…Sam? Cas's voice was muffled. "I need some air, remember?"

He backed away looking sheepish.

"There is much to talk about. I'm not naïve enough to think that we don't. But may I sleep first?"

"Yeah, I guess." Bobby said in that way of his, like it was a burden on him for other people to breath. Cas couldn't help but smile. He'd missed that.

Bobby continued, "I'll just put you some pillows on the couch and—"

"Bobby" was all Sam said.

Cas was staring longingly at the stairs.

"Oh, well yeah. Duh." The older man walked away towards his bedroom, which was on the main floor. "Ya idgits."

Sam was still standing in the kitchen, shocked, when Cas ascended the stairs and entered Dean's bedroom. He was sleeping soundly, curled on to his side. And he was hugging the trench coat.

Cas felt a constricting in his throat. He wanted to cry; it was a feeling he'd grown quite adept at recognizing.

Slowly, Cas undressed. He crawled into the bed and carefully wrapped his arms around Dean's sleeping figure. He drifted off to the most calming sleep he'd experienced since falling.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is it. The finale. Enjoy.**

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><p>Before Cas was even fully awake, he had been pushed to the floor and punched in the face. Then Dean ran downstairs.<p>

"Bobby!" He yelled loud enough for astronauts to hear him. "Bobby! Sam! Sam!"

"Dean. Let me explain, I—"

Cas was cut off by Dean slamming him into the wall of the kitchen. Everything around them rattled and threatened to fall. Dean's arm was putting pressure on Cas's windpipe, showing no mercy.

"Dean, stop it!" Bobby entered the room and immediately grabbed a hold of the old Winchester's arms and held him back.

"I will kill him."

"Look, no. You're not." Sam reasons, always the unbiased one. "He did this for us. For you. Every little thing he's done since you got out of hell has been for you. And this was for you too. He was trying to save you."

Dean, however, seemed to be beyond listening. "Then why'd he leave me!" He turned to Castiel, who was still standing against the wall. "You left me. You don't leave the ones you love. You don't…You just made everything worse by leaving, Cas. And now…now you've made it worse by coming back."

Bobby let go of Dean and he and Sam slowly backed away. Clearly, this was going to be a moment that neither one of them wanted to be a part of.

With a tilt of his head, Dean went outside to the junkyard with Cas following him.

"I had to, Dean…" Cas's voice had never sounded so small.

"You know what? I get that. I get leaving. You had to. The whole leviathan thing. That makes sense."

"Dean…"

"No. You didn't come back, Cas. You should have come back the moment you knew you were alive."

Cas moved quickly, gripping Dean's shoulders and forcing him to meet his eyes. "Don't you see it? I did it for you!"

Dean stood still. Half of him screaming to just welcome Cas back and take him upstairs for a good fucking. But the other half of him won out.

"Then leave. For me."

If his heart wasn't broken already, the look on Cas's face would have done it. The former angel merely nodded, and walked away. The last thing Dean saw of him was the beige trench coat blowing in the wind behind the walking figure.

Which left Dean standing in the middle of the junk yard, looking up at the stars and praying that he had made the right decision.

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><p><em>10 years later<em>

Dean smiled as they entered the huge bookstore. Bobby hobbled towards the do-it-yourself section, while Cassie and Gabriella ran for the children's section at the back of the store.

Sammy's kids liked to read. So every week, when Sam and his wife went to bible study, he and Bobby got put on kid duty. Which really wasn't all that bad, even if Bobby did complain about it all the time.

Of course, Sam had gotten the life that he had always wanted. A wife, two kids, hell, they even had a dog named Roofus. All in all, he was proud of his little brother for obtaining his dreams.

Dean…well. Dean was happy simply being. He had spent his entire life running and now he just rejoiced in not having to.

After making sure the kids were okay, not that he really needed to check, they were practically angels, Dean made his way towards the fiction section. Since giving up hunting, with the occasional exception no one knew about, he had a lot of time on his hands. When he wasn't working at the auto-shop, or playing video games, he was reading. The first time Bobby had found him sitting on the couch with a book in his hand, he'd nearly drowned him in holy water.

Dean browsed the shelves. He looked for new books from his favorite authors. He looked for books he merely just hadn't read before. On the third shelf he passed, about halfway down, he saw a small white paperbook with black lettering. There was only one of them. But it wasn't the cover the caught his eye, it was the title. He pulled it out and nearly dropped it to the ground.

_Living Proof_

by Castiel Roth

"Cas?" Dean whispered to himself. There was no blurb on the back of the book, like some did. So he began reading.

_To Dean,_

_Who is my living proof._

Dean turned to the first page.

_**Chapter 1**_

_I am no angel, I am just me._

_Fifteen years ago, I believed that the perfect world did not exist, at least not on earth. I was headstrong and stubborn, and naïve beyond my years. But I am living proof that you often learn the most important things after the hardest fall._

Some time later.

…_Love conquers all. I have heard this many times since my…rebirth. But I hadn't fully understood it's meaning until that night. As I walked away, the wind whipping at my clothes, I realized that, perhaps, it was true. Love truly does conquer all. But love often means having to walk away from said love. Of this, I am living proof. Unfortunately, as I have said before, you often learn the most important lessons after the hardest of falls._

_Dean, the man who claimed to be living proof that the world was not perfect, was my perfect world._

"Uncle Dean! Uncle Dean!" He heard the voices growing louder. He looked around. When he sat down, he didn't know, but he pushed himself up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Uncle Dean!" Cassie and Gabrielly finally found him, tackling him in hugs. Each child had three books. Bobby was standing at the end of the aisle looking mean. But then, when did Bobby ever not look mean?

While the kids ran towards the register, Bobby and Dean followed a few steps behind.

"The kids may not be able to tell, but I can. What's up?"

Dean sighed and simply handed Bobby the book. He read the cover, then the inscription, and looked at the younger man with wonder filling his eyes.

Dean was the only one who spoke.

"We have to find Cas."


End file.
